After the End
by Redi Chalyn
Summary: The Archdemon has been slain, the Blight defeated, and Ferelden saved. But at what cost? Zevran must now come to terms with the loss of his love, while Allistair finds love of his own in an unexpected place. Third in Romance Saga. Temporarily on hiatus, sorry.
1. Return of the Crows

**Did anyone else feel close to tears from the ending of Assassin's Heart? I did and I'm the one who wrote it! This third installment of the Romance Saga explains what happens after the end.**

Zevran walked through the streets of the Alienage, lacking a true purpose. He'd volunteered to guard any workers fixing the Alienage, though there wasn't anything to really guard against except the occasional fight between the elves and the humans who'd been sent to help. That was a strictly no kill business, although accidents sometimes happen to anyone. When humans started insinuating that a "knife-eared wench" couldn't have been the savior of Ferelden, accidents happened more often. Today, the bridge was to be finished. Zevran, the best dressed elf by far, walked around fairly aimlessly. He stopped when he heard his name. The voice was bittersweet, like cheese and goat meat. He turned slowly. "Shianni."

The red headed elf smiled. "Listen, I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am. We all are. For what you've done for us. You've given us hope."

"I have done nothing. Your cousin is the one who saved us all." His eyes drifted to her side, still heavily bandaged after three long months.

Shianni sighed. "I know you miss her. We all do...none more than my uncle."

Zevran shook his head. "Why are you here, Shianni?"

She sighed. "Nothing gets past you, does it? The king wants to see you."

Zevran allowed a wry laugh to escape. "Three months of visits to the palace, and you still refer to him as 'the king'?"

Shianni blushed slightly. "Just get there. He said it was important."

Zevran nodded and left the Alienage, using the route through the warehouse to get to the back alleys, then traveling to the palace district. It brought back memories of Tevintor slavers...and the final battle against the darkspawn. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Now was not the time to think about Natallia. As he approached the palace, guards stood at attention to him, opening the doors. He went through, going toward the meeting chamber. Before he got there, however, he heard his name being called. He stopped and turned, seeing Allistair in the fine fabrics awarded him as king. He bowed formally. "Your majesty."

"Oh, please. I had hoped that you of all people wouldn't do that."

Zevran stood straight, smirking. "And how is the palace life?"

"In danger, apparently." Allistair tilted his head, leading Zevran down a hall and to a broom cupboard. He opened it and out fell a man, bound and gagged.

Zevran recognized the make of the armor instantly. "Crows."

Allistair nodded. "Though they didn't seem to be after me. They were...looking for something." Silence. "Or someone."

Zevran raised his eyes to his old friend, a look in them never seen before. "And if they were?"

"I'm not saying you have to leave. I'm just saying you need to be more careful, is all. Cover your tracks better. You of all people understand, right?"

Zevran grunted, looking back at the man. "What do you intend to do with him?"

"Don't change the subject, Zevran. Ferelden needs you at your best."

Zevran glared up at Allistair. "Like she has you?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"No, you wouldn't. It must feel good, I suppose. Knowing that she died instead of you."

Allistair groaned. "Oh, Maker not this again."

Zevran scoffed and left the palace, going back to the Alienage. He went to Cyrion's house, where he had been staying since enough repairs had been made for elves to return to their homes. He sat down, sighing and rubbing his head. The old elf smiled at him, handing him a mug of tea. "How go the repairs?"

"The bridge is nearly finished. It should be complete by the end of the day."

Cyrion laid a hand on Zevran's shoulder. "I meant the repairs to your heart, son."

Zevran shook his head, taking a long sip of the tea. "I did not lose so much as you."

"Or perhaps more. You loved her in a way no one else could."

"A father's love, that must be something. She was lucky: she knew you."

Cyrion patted Zevran's shoulder gently. "I'll leave you to your thoughts then." He walked off, sporting a slight limp that remained from the slavers. Zevran sighed and stared into his mug of tea. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, lost in his own thoughts, but after some time Cyrion returned. "There's a woman here for you, lad."

Zevran shook his head. "I'm not taking visitors."

Cyrion put a hand on Zevran's shoulder. "She's armed. And tattoed."

Zevran looked up into the old elf's face. He nodded and went to the door, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword just in case. He managed a smile for who he saw. "Mythra, isn't it? What brings you here?"

The Dalish hunter looked past Zevran into the house. "Alone?" she whispered.

"The man who answered the door is here, but no one else. Is something-"

Mythra shoved past Zevran and entered the house suddenly, leaving a confused Zevran to close the door. "We need to talk."

"Isn't that what we're doing now?"

Mythra narrowed her eyes. "Your charms may work on Flatears, but-"

Zevran narrowed his eyes. "If you have come to talk, then do so quickly. I am not one to be annoyed."

Mythra sighed, dipping her head. "I'm sorry. Just, this is strange for me. I've come to seek help. My clan was attacked not more than a fortnight ago."

"The king is who you should see then. He is the Grey Warden, not I." Zevran pushed back his thoughts of Natallia.

"Word reached us of the woman's death. For what it's worth, I'm deeply sorry. But we were not attacked by darkspawn. The men shared your accent. I remembered from when you came with the odd group and helped us with the werewolves. When I saw you were not with our attackers, I came to warn you." Mythra's face twisted in a grimace and she touched her leg.

Zevran looked down and saw that her upper thigh was bandaged, blood seeping out of the wound. "You were wounded, yet you travelled all this way? Why? You must know that if your attackers are my former comrades from Antiva, they will be long gone with no hope of tracing by now."

Mythra nodded. "I came against the wishes of Keeper Lanaya. Since you were not with them, I can only assume they were after you."

Zevran nodded, then looked around. He touched Mythra's back gently, guiding her to his room. He helped her lay down, soothing her protests. He lit a candle to see better and knelt beside her, undoing the bandage carefully and examining the wound. "The arrow was poisoned. You know this, I presume."

Mythra nodded, breathing heavily. "The Creators guided me here. I will not return."

Zevran bit his tongue, finding himself wishing he could take the poison from her and save her. "No one should die in pain," he muttered under his breath.

Mythra laughed shortly. "Somehow, I didn't expect you to say that, given the people after you."

Zevran looked into her eyes. "The Dalish are not the only elves to be found with honor. The Grey Warden who saved your clan taught me that."

Mythra nodded slowly, closing her eyes. "We prayed the Creators take her as one of their children. May Falon'Din guide her to the beyond." She gritted her teeth. "And may Elgar'nan grant you the venegance you seek." She writhed on the bed, then was still. Her body went limp, a last whisper escaping her lips. "Falon'Din, guide me..."

Zevran stood from Mythra's body, trembling with rage. "Cyrion," he called out gently. When there was no answer, his heart began to race. He looked out of his room, not seeing the old elf. "Cyrion?" When there was still no answer he drew his blades, creeping through the house. He found Cyrion in his own room, laying on the floor as though he'd tried to drag himself out. Zevran's eyes widened at the amount of blood. There was a twisted sort of laugh from a corner. Zevran narrowed his eyes, attempting to see the face of Cyrion's murderer.

"The Antivan Crows send their greetings, traitor."

Zevran was ready for the attack, but not for the force it came with. He staggered backward, barely finding his footing before another blow came. He managed to doge the attacks for the most part, being sure to parry the others. He could smell the poison on the man's blades. Strength, however, had never been a strong point with Zevran. Thankfully, the front door opened, distracting the Crow. He paled when he heard Shianni's voice. He shook his head. "Shianni, run!" He plunged his blades into the back of the Crow, killing him but knowing that more were around. He ran outside to accompany Shianni to the palace to be sure she was safe. he found himself too late, however. Shianni was in the arms of another Crow, a dagger dangerously close to her throat. Zevran stopped, raising a hand. "Let her go. This is between the Crows and myself, not these elves."

The crow sneered and was about to slit Shianni's throat when a loud commotion was heard. The palace guard ran through the streets, the Crow fleeing. Zevran closed his eyes and dipped his head, slowly shaking it sadly. He went to Shianni and gently took her arm. "Come, my dear. You do not want to go inside." He looked at a guard and gestured toward Cyrion's house before escorting Shianni to the royal palace.


	2. This is War

Zevran guided Shianni through the palace district and into the royal quarters, not saying a word to anyone. He stopped at Alistair's private quarters, banging his fist on the door once before opening it. Alistair stood inside, a shocked look on his face. Zevran released Shianni, giving her a light shove in Alistair's direction. Alistair's look went from shocked to alarmed as he saw the blood on Zevran and the thin red line on Shianni's neck. Zevran narrowed his eyes. "Have a healer see to her: if the dagger cut the skin at all she will die before tomorrow's sun rises."

"Zevran, what in Andraste's name-"

"I am not here to answer questions, Alistair. When the Crows sent someone after you, I thought it ironic and that perhaps Anora hired them. When a wounded Dalish elf showed up at my doorstep, I began to ponder it more heavily as that is a rare enough occurance. The lady died because of the Crows, as did many of her clan from what she told me. But now it has gone on too far."

"What are you TALKING about?"

Zevran slammed his fists on a small table, rage in his eyes. "You let them come into the Alienage! You, the king of Ferelden, allowed the best trained assassins of Thedas to enter the Alienage and kill an innocent man. Cyrion died because of you! Shianni almost died! And you did NOTHING! Or are you just finishing the family?"

"Zev, I had no idea this was happening, I-"

"You don't get to be clueless! Natallia died because you were too weak to take that final blow, too afraid. Now her father is dead and her cousin almost, and this doesn't seem a bit coincidental?"

Alistair sighed. "Calm down. We can talk about this, discuss our options. Just, sit down and relax." He put a hand on Zevran's shoulder.

Zevran hit his hand away. "There will be no rest for me." He looked at Shianni. "Protect her. She doesn't deserve that fate any more than Cyrion did." He looked into Alistair's eyes, contempt brewing. "If you ever cared for Natallia, you will protect her family."

"A task which you've failed at miserably."

Zevran drew his blades and launched at Alistair, plunging his sword through the king's middle and holding his dagger ready to slit his throat. Shianni screamed. "Stop it! Zevran, stop!" She grabbed his arm, pulling it away.

Zevran stood up and yanked his sword out of Alistair. He glared down at the king. "I tolerate no words from you. When next you see me, Shianni won't be here." With that, he went to the window and opened it, jumping out. He ran on the rooftops, going to the Alienage. He stopped, shaking his head. That was where he was expected to go, and he would play the fool no longer. In that moment, he knew what had to be done. He went to the market district and into Wade's Emporium, retrieving the drakeskin armor Natallia had asked Wade to make. He then went to Wonders of Thedas and bought out their stock of crafting reagents. This was war.

In the palace, a mage healed Alistair while the royal healer saw to Shianni. The dagger had in fact broken the skin on her throat, and he set to work immediately to cure her of the poison. Alistair and Shianni answered any questions about Zevran's attack by saying that the Crows were flying near. Extra guards were commissioned for the king's safety as well as Shianni's. Alistair insisted that Shianni remain in the palace for her own safety. Rumors began to go around, but were mostly shot down.

**Sorry this one's so short. Next one will be longer, I promise!**


	3. Remembrance and a Birthday

Weeks went by with no sign of Zevran. No one had seen or heard from him, and it was rightfully assumed he was gone. Alistair didn't show a trace of his wound, and Shianni was recovering well from the poison. Though Shianni was kept safe in the palace, she felt as though she were still being alienated. One night, as she sat alone on a balcony, she heard footsteps behind her. "You know, this has been my favorite place to come to think."

Shianni smiled when she heard Alistair, blushing slightly despite herself. "It's quiet. You can see the stars so clearly, it's like you could touch them."

Alistair smiled. "It feels good to feel so close to the Maker."

Shianni nodded slightly, feeling warmer when he sat next to her. She sighed sadly. "There's no point in hiding it from me. I know that my uncle Cyrion is dead."

Alistair sighed. "I thought you might. I'm sorry, Shianni."

The elf closed her eyes. "I don't have any family now. They're all gone."

Alistair put an arm around Shianni, holding her close. "You knew them and loved them. They'll never die so long as you remember." He knew it was corny, but it was the best he could do.

Shianni nodded. "It's just, I didn't get to say good-bye. All I can remember is when you helped us that night. I should have gone with you. Maybe then, Natallia wouldn't have-"

Alistair shook his head. "It's a secret of the Grey Wardens, but it may help you find solace. The only way to slay an archdemon, is for a Warden to make the killing blow." He sighed, remembering that night all too well. "Your cousin insisted that she make that final blow. She was poisoned anyway, and knew she would die. Wynne healed her pain, but even she admitted later she hadn't been able to take the poison out." He closed his eyes, rubbing Shianni's arm. "Natallia didn't die in pain. She was my closest friend. We could have been more, but from the moment we met Zevran on the road she was interested. Despite the fact he tried killing us, she loved him."

Shianni looked up into Alistair's face. "You loved her, didn't you?"

Alistair nodded slightly. "I knew it wasn't right. I knew that, if I were made king, it wouldn't be right for her to be queen. I'm not sure if Grey Wardens can have children or should, but two Grey Wardens together just seemed like a bad idea. I never pursued her. I was her friend."

Shianni nodded and rested her head on Alistair's chest. "Sometimes, I remember when Duncan came to the Alienage. We were in so much trouble, especially her. But Duncan saved her. He invoked the right of conscription."

Alistair nodded, remembering his own experience. "He invoked the right with me, too. I was being trained as a templar, though I hadn't taken my vows. I hated it. Duncan came and recruited me."

Shianni smiled. "You're a lot like her." She sighed. "I remember when Aunt Nattie started training her to fight as a rogue with two blades. I was young, but I knew that they could get in trouble for even thinking of it. But in truth, I was jealous. I begged her to teach me, too, but I never could get it. She taught me to use a bow instead, though she never got a chance to teach me more than the basics."

Alistair gave Shianni a light squeeze, remembering how Natallia had run off when he'd been so insistent on knowing her first name. A cool breeze blew, making Shianni shiver slightly. Alistair rubbed her arm and laid a gentle kiss on top of her head. "Come on, let's go inside. You'll catch a chill out here." He stood up and offered a hand down to her.

Shianni looked up at him and took his hand, standing up. She looked up into his eyes, feeling her heart start beating faster. Alistair smiled at her and guided her inside.

Zevran stepped into an old, familiar brothel. He sat down at a corner table and waited for one of the whores to greet him. He smiled up at the pretty lady who came to his table. "A glass of brandy, please." He looked around as the lady left to get his drink. This place brought back memories, most of which he would prefer to forget. The whore returned with his glass and he took it. When she was still there, he waved her off. He slowly sipped the brandy, allowing himself a small smile. _Old Antivan Brandy. The best._ He looked around, noticing three Crows in the building. He sneered and waved the whore back over. "I'd like the bottle, please. It's been a long journey." The whore nodded and went to retrieve the bottle. Zevran again waved her off, taking the bottle and opening it. He refilled his own glass first, then added a special ingredient to the bottle of brandy. He closed it and brought it and his own glass over to the table where the Crows sat. He set the bottle down. "I'd like to buy you gentlemen a drink. Tis my way of celebrating."

"And what are you celebrating, elf?"

Zevran smiled, knowing they didn't recognize him. "Today is the birthday of my sweetest love."

The Crows looked at eachother, shrugged, and each poured a glass of the brandy. Zevran raised his glass, to which they did as well, and they all drank. The effects were nearly instant, as the Crows began to act very drunk. One of them looked up at Zevran. "When was she born?" His words slurred together.

Zevran stood there, smiling at the Crows as they began to fall face first onto the table. "Tonight."


	4. Why am I here?

Shortly after the cremation of Cyrion, Alistair and Shianni began to have chats more frequently, and they began to grow longer. Rumors didn't truly begin to spread, however, until a royal dressmaker was assigned to Shianni. Alistair waved any questions off, however, saying he owed it to his friend to keep her cousin safe, or the hero of Ferelden would have done no different.

One evening, Shianni stood before a full body mirror placed in her room, looking at her reflection. She looked at the silks wrapped around her body, the paint coloring her face. She shook her head at what she saw. _This isn't me. _She sighed, touching her hair. The locks that had been so limp in her ponytails had grown with better nutrition, growing fuller and thicker. She shook her head. _You would have loved to brush it, Nattie. You always said that's why you kept your hair long. _She closed her eyes to stop the tears, but they came anyway. She sank to the floor, covering her face and crying. She cried for Natallia, for Cyrion. She cried for herself. _What am I doing here?_

Alistair sighed, running fingers through his hair as he read a document. He shook his head. _I have to find a wife. Ferelden will need an heir._ He shook his head. Anora was the obvious choice, and something had to be done about her anyway as she couldn't remain in the tower forever. He shuddered to think of that as even an option, however. _Oh, Maker...what am I supposed to do? _He sighed, shaking his head. There were rumors of an affair between Shianni and himself, as he was well aware, but that was hardly probable. He was protecting her, nothing more. _From what? There have been no signs of the Crows since Zevran left. The Alienage is repaired. Why am I really keeping her here? _He shook his head, looking at all the documents and letters. _What am I doing here? _

Zevran stood over the body of a Crow Master. He'd already killed the entire cell, so now he allowed himself a moment to ponder his actions and even himself. He knelt down beside the body and took a single souvenir; a silver bracer. He held it in his hands, examining the intricate markings. _Ah, Nattie. Look at me now. This is the fate you could easily have dispatched to me as I had intended to give to you. _He scoffed. _Fate is such a tricky whore. I failed to kill you and you did not kill me. Instead you saved me from Morrigan and, I daresay, myself. Now, it is all over, and you are still the one whose ashes were spread, whose tomb is revered, whose life is remembered. Ah, my dear Grey Warden. Your death is mourned. _He shook his head as he put the bracer in his pack, staring out into nothingness. A single tear ran down his cheek, making his tattoo glisten with sorrow. _What am I doing here? _

Shianni took a calming breath and took the hair ties out of her hair, combing her hair out and making it shine. It fell to her shoulders now. She smiled at her reflection, carefully dabbing her tears away. _I am here to live as you would have wanted, Nattie. _She walked out of her room and went toward the armory. She would learn how to properly shoot a bow, and honor her cousin's memory by never allowing a man to take her without earning her heart first. Strong in her resolve, she vowed to be tireless in her lessons.

Alistair stood up, his jaw set. _I am here to be the king you knew I could be, and the Grey Warden you cannot be. I owe that to you, Natallia. _He strode out of his room and went down to the armory to reclaim his armor and practice fighting to keep in good shape. No one else would fall to evil of any kind. The next time an assassin came, he would be ready and would not need his guards. Never again would anyone, elf human dwarf or mage, fall to a fate they didn't deserve.

Zevran smiled cynically and stood, a new light dancing in his eyes. _I am here to live the adventure you always wanted. I am here to keep your memory alive and active. I am here to remember your love. Tis the least I can do for you, my dear Nattie. _He strode out of the building and disappeared into the shadows of Antiva City, plotting a course for the next Crow cell. This wasn't to avenge Cyrion's death. This wasn't to avenge Shianni's poisoning. This was no longer even to kill the pain of losing the woman he loved. This vendetta was to ensure no one was ever hurt again for being close to him. This was to make sure he was never hunted again. This was to live the adventure he had promised Natallia once he would take her on. A twisted smile crossed his lips. This was to live, rather than be alive.


	5. Revelations

Shianni took careful aim at the dummy, closing one eye. She was about to loose the arrow when Alistair stepped in front of her. She gasped. Alistair laughed. "For a moment, I thought you were going to shoot anyway."

Shianni smirked and loosed the arrow. It whizzed by Alistair's ear and hit its mark perfectly. She looked at him. "For a moment, I thought I did."

Alistair's eyes were wide as he turned and looked, then looked back to Shianni. "I see you've been practicing."

Shianni laughed. "Don't act so afraid: I wouldn't have taken the shot had I not had it."

Alistair nodded, looking again. She shook his head. "Maker's breath..."

Shianni set her bow and quiver to the side. "Far from it." She laughed. "So, what's up? You know I've been down here, so what do you need?"

Alistair smirked. "Whaaat? Can't a man just visit a fair lady?"

Shianni scoffed. "Yes, he can. But a king visiting an elf? Not as likely."

Alistair sighed. "I would have hoped that Natallia saving Ferelden would have bridged that gap. I suppose not."

Shianni lost her smile and looked at him. "What do you want, Alistair?" Her tone had gone from joking to curt.

Alistair held his hands up. "A walk. I just want to take a walk. Uh, with you, I mean. Um...gee I'm always bad at this."

Shianni looked at the blushing Alistair and laughed. "Let me change first." She grazed Alistair's arm as she went by, going up to her room to change out of her armor. Alistair sighed in relief, still blushing, and went to the main hall to meet her. When he saw her, his jaw dropped. Shianni was wearing a long, form fitting dress made of powder blue and cream silk. Her hair was long enough to have braided into a single loop in the back, the rest reaching down to her upper back. Alistair could hear his heart pounding. "Maker but you're beautiful."

Shianni blushed slightly, looking down and smiling. "Thank you." She looked up at him. "Where did you want to walk to?"

Alistair smiled. "I was thinking about how lovely the gardens should be. Not so lovely as you are, I'm sure."

Shianni giggled nervously, cheeks reddening. "Such a charmer." She went to his side and walked with him outside and around the side of the palace to the royal gardens. She hadn't been in them before, but had seen them from the balcony. They were beautiful. They walked in silence, though it was not awkward at all. As they approached a rose bush, Alistair stopped. He stooped and picked a rose, examining it. He looked at Shianni and handed it to her. She took it, shocked. "Alistair, I-"

Alistair shook his head, smiling. It was his time to talk, before he lost his nerve. "It just occurs to me that, in all the time you've been here, you've never asked for anything. You've lost so much from the Blight, and not once did you ask for something to replace what you lost. And I've never thanked you."

Shianni raised an eyebrow. "Thanked me?"

Alistair nodded. "You've given me something to fill the hole left from the loss of a dear friend, and so much more. You deserve a thank you, and so much more."

Shianni blushed but didn't look away, mesmerized by his eyes. "Alistair, I-"

Alistair pulled her to him suddenly, holding her in his arms. "I just wanted you to know that you will always have a place here, not as a servant." He leaned into her slowly. Shianni didn't pull away, her eyes starting to close. She could smell his breath, feel it circling around her face. Her lips parted slightly and met his. Her heart raced; was this really happening? Was she really being kissed by a king? Was she really kissing that king back? All that had happened suddenly seemed small in comparison to this moment.

Zevran sat on a rooftop in Antiva City, watching as the Crows went into their hideout building, oblivious to his watchful eyes. There weren't many masters left, and tonight would make one less. He waited until it was well past dark and snuck in, killing most of the cell quickly before moving on to the master's quarters. His eyes widened, however, when he saw that the master was sitting in a chair, facing him as he entered. "Zevran, wasn't it? Sit."

Zevran narrowed his eyes. "You knew I was coming."

The master nodded. "Of course I did."

"Then you know why."

Again, the master nodded. "However, I don't think you will."

Zevran scoffed. "And why is that?"

The master leaned forward. "Because I'm going to offer you a deal you cannot refuse."

Zevran raised an eyebrow and listened, his hands ready to draw his blades at any moment.


	6. Options and Acceptance

Zevran sat in the brothel he'd spent his childhood in, sipping his brandy. He shook his head, thinking about what the master had told him.

_"What could you possibly offer me that I could not refuse?"  
"How about entering back into our ranks."  
"Ha! And here I thought I would be offered riches and companions. So sad."  
"You do not know the half of it, Zevran. That is exactly what I am offering. Surely you know what we Crows enjoy."  
"Sadly, no. Thank you for the offer, but I think I'll just kill you."  
"A shame, really. You would make a great master. Maybe even Grand Master."_

Zevran shook his head again, finishing off his glass and pouring himself another. It wasn't such a horrible idea, in truth. Then again, what would Natallia say to him? After all, she'd blatently refused an offer to work with the Crows at all after her contracts in Denerim. Had he really gotten so that he had forgotten his reason for coming here? This was for Natallia, to live as she would have given the chance. He sighed. Power was lucrative, and he had never been very strong in his ability to refuse. A buxom lady approached his table then, with her intention clear. Zevran held up a hand, not even looking into her face. "No. Thank you, but no." The woman pouted and walked off, clearly irritated. Zevran shook his head and stared into his glass of brandy. "Here's to you, my dear Nattie." He tossed it back.

Shianni laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She kept replaying the walk through the garden in her mind. Had it truly happened? She felt altogether too happy for it to have been real. Yet it had been far too sensory to have been imagined. She rolled onto her side, looking at the wall. What was she feeling? More importantly, why was she feeling it? Yes, Alistair had been kind to her and had given her sanctuary, but was that cause to feel this way? She sighed, looking over to the vanity. A single rose was in a vase. She smiled. That was not the only reason for her feelings, whatever they were. And if they were not returned, so be it. At least now she knew there was a real reason. Beyond what he felt was a requirement for Natallia's memory, Alistair had shown her kindness and understanding no human could have known for an elf. She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, content.

The next morning, Shianni awoke to a hand maid holding a tray of breakfast food. She smiled at the other elf, sitting up. "Good morning."

The maid smiled back but said nothing, setting the tray down.

Shianni nodded her thanks and ate. She stopped and looked at the maid. "Have you eaten?"

The maid shook her head after hesitating.

Shianni sighed and handed the tray back to the maid. "You eat the rest then."

The maid's eyes widened at the mostly untouched food. "My lady, no. I-"

"Haven't eaten. I could not eat in front of you, knowing you have not."

"But-"

Shianni laughed. "Have you forgotten that I too am an elf? Eat."

The maid blushed slightly and nodded, sitting down and eating the remainder of the food. Shianni smiled, watching her. The maid looked up, her cheeks red with embarassment. "Thank you, my lady."

"Please, my name is Shianni."

The maid gasped. "Then it is true. You really are the hero's cousin!"

It was Shianni's turn to blush. "Yes, it's true. Nattie was...amazing."

The maid smiled and set the tray aside. "It is good to know that some gossip holds merit. Come now, let's get you dressed."

Shianni sighed and stood up. "I really can dress myself you know."

"Yes, I know, but the king has assigned me to be your personal hand maiden. Besides, some of the dresses can be difficult."

Shianni waved her hands toward the corner of the room quartered off for dressing. "Then by all means, lead the way." She laughed, shaking her head as she followed the maid. "What's your name anyway?"

"Zielda. My father was foreign and insisted my mother name me after his."

Shianni nodded as she undressed. "Zielda. It's a pretty name, if a bit of a mouthful. Sorta rolls off the tongue."

Zielda laughed as she began dressing Shianni. "Thank you."


	7. A Love Revealed

Many months later, when snow covered the ground, Shianni and Alistair met in the main hall of the palace. Shianni blushed and looked down, her heart skipping a beat as he caught her eye. Alistair gently touched her face, raising it to look at him. "I wondered if you'd like to take a walk."

Shianni laughed. "It's freezing outside." She shook her head, laughing. "Where were you thinking?"

Alistair smirked. "Oh, nowhere really. Just a walk."

Shianni sighed and nodded. "As you wish then." She took his arm and let him guide her to the doorway, stepping out into the snow with him. They were both already wearing heavy furs: clearly the walk was going to happen anyway. They went into the market district, looking at the vendors' various goods. Shianni laughed and smiled, petting the dogs who ran up to them. She barely noticed as they approached the gates to the Alienage with the new bridge. She gasped as she saw the bridge. "It's so much better now!" Her smile disappeared as she looked down at her clothing. "I can't go in here though. Not in such splendid clothing. I-"

Alistair gently put a finger to her lips. "This was your home for many years. You need to see how it's doing now." He gently guided her across the bridge and into the Alienage. He smiled at the elves who walked around hunched over from the cold. They looked at him with a mixture of contempt and respect. He had, after all, seen that their home was repaired and was now better than it had been. However, he had also taken their own Shianni away from them without her even saying good-bye. When they saw her, however, their jaws dropped. She was so different, so beautiful.

Shianni looked around at her home. "Andraste's ass..."

Alistair laughed. "It's not the same, is it?" He gently guided her to the corner where he'd first seen her. She'd been laying on the ground, inches from a darkspawn blade. He'd saved her life then and had remembered the exact spot. He smiled at her. "Where we first met."

Shianni laughed. "I wouldn't consider that a meeting. You were my saviour."

Alistair smiled, his eyes dancing. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you, Shianni."

Shianni's eyes widened as she looked at him. She braced herself for the news that she would have to return, to give up all her possessions which was fine, but also give up any feelings she'd developed for the king. She swallowed and nodded.

"That night, I fell in love with an elf from an Alienage." He dropped to one knee, holding her hands in his. "I still love that elf, as I always will. I'll take her to be my queen, if you'll have me."

Shianni's jaw dropped as she went speechless. There was a collective gasp from the onlooking elves as more came out to see. Shianni bit her lower lip, swallowing. "If the king wishes a queen, the elf who loves him will oblige." There were tears in her eyes as Alistair stood and kissed her. The onlooking elves applauded to see Shianni so happy and to see a king who was not above the elves.

Zevran looked around at the Crow masters. He nodded approvingly. As they began to leave, he called one of them back. He waited for everyone else to leave and for the door to close before looking at the master before him. He nodded. "Your cell is the largest and best trained. I have a contract for you, for which you will be paid most handsomely." The master looked interested to say the least. Zevran smirked. "You will go to Ferelden. Your best will go to Denerim, the rest to Redcliffe."

"Two cities?"

Zevran nodded. "You will be in Denerim, awaiting word from the contact in Redcliffe."

"And the contact?"

Zevran sneered. "Me."

The master nodded and left. Zevran sat down when the door was closed again, looking at the silver ring he still wore. "Tis time we returned, yes? The grandest adventure awaits." He laughed. "As does the birthday of my sweetest love." _Revenge. You will pay as I have. You will die by no mortal wound. You will die as I have. _


End file.
